Original subtitles

EASY DOWN THERE

- Hello, Father. - Good morning.

- How's your dad? - He has the flu.

- Your mother? - She has a cough.

That's good.

I'll ring the bell.

There may be a few latecomers coming across the moor.

Are you Father Medieu?

I guess so.

What I have to tell you is quite sensitive.

It's windy around here.

God and the elements reign supreme here.

Dear sir, the souls of the damned run on the moor...

...and their tears mingle with the cries of the gulls.

But what I have to tell you is very sensitive.

You've stolen, raped, set fire to, tortured, killed perhaps?

It's not that.

- I'm married. - Very good.

So what?

Father, I'm your wife's husband.

Like to repeat that?

I am the husband of your wife.

Yes, I am Rita's husband.

Rita is dead.

Died 7 years ago. That's why I took the cloth.

- No! - Yes!

No, your wife is not dead, not drowned off Saint-Tropez.

- I was at her funeral. - The coffin was empty.

- But why? - It was a conspiracy.

She wanted to free you.

Your life was hell, remember?

She made you so jealous.

You couldn't give concerts anymore.

That's true...

Once I slapped her so hard that my left hand was paralysed.

We had to cancel a Salle Pleyel concert.

Had to refund everyone.

That bitch!

Rita dead... she no longer had any civil status.

How did she marry you?

- I gave her false papers. - Are you a cop?

The opposite.

Married a mobster!

The bitch!

She'd almost forgotten you.

One day she saw your photo in the newspaper.

When you gave that concert in Saint-Eustache.

Since then, she's lived only in the hope of seeing you again.

See me again!?

The bitch!

- Listen, old man! - I'm not your old man!

- Call me "Father". - Father.

- Where is she? - There.

There?

Where?

In the confessional.

Rotten bitch!

The Gospel according to St Luke for the 4th Sunday after Advent.

At that time, Jesus said to his disciples: "Don't be afraid my flock...

"...because your Father wanted give you the kingdom”.

My daughters, you will not hear mass today.

I am unfortunately not in a state that's spiritual enough.

The Lord moves in mysterious ways. He alone probes our kidneys and hearts.

How we are now...

How we are now, is not continuous.

Myself, a minister of God barely an hour ago...

...living among you on a city's outskirts...

...in this poor parish near the sea...

...my heart in the music...

...head in the clouds...

...not far from paradise.

And suddenly, as Bossuet said...

Madame didn't die!

Madame is not dead!

Her flesh speaks.

She's screaming again, brandishing at me from the dark abyss of Satan's caves!

"Diabolicum perseverare"!

It is Satan who perseveres.

"Abyssum invocat."

The pit called The Abyss. Amen.

You, indulgent husband... wait for me there!

Father...

Scum!

Hello, Simon.

Simon is dead, unlike you, having the bad taste to rise to the surface.

Pretty words in the mouth of a priest, and a husband who loved me!

When I think of all the masses what I said for the salvation of your soul!

They'll be kept for later.

What do you think of me?

Shameful.

Diabolical temptress! Mary Magdalene!

Is that a compliment?

What happened to you?

I remarried, to Francisco.

Grotesque!

He has a bar in the port of Brest.

- You... Rita! - You stammer like before.

You won't make me angry any more.

In my husband's bar, I take care of the customers.

Like you cared before, for many of my friends.

- It's stronger than me. - How unfortunate for you!

Keep your pity for your old Breton women!

Tell me what you want and let's get it over with!

I left you out of love.

So that you didn't kill me in a moment of rage.

Only I never managed to forget you.

You're unforgettable, Simon.

Get to the point!

I want you. I dream of you.

St Paul... "Thoughtless woman."

When I see you, when I hear you, I hate women.

- I hate women! - Priests!

Get out! Or else confess.

- It would take too long. - So let's get out of here.

Come with me to the parsonage.

- Come on! - Simon.

No!

So?

It's cold here.

It's meant to be. Speak, I have little time.

Very well.

I want to live with you again.

But I'm a priest!

If I reappear, if I resurrect, my marriage isn't valid.

You're no longer a widower and the Vatican releases you from your vows.

You become my husband again and besides, you're not a defrocked priest.

Should I turn the other cheek?

The other cheek is turned out of humility...

...not out of the outrageous perversion of your abusive senses.

You still speak so well.

Get out of my sight and never come back!

Why would I leave?

Think about your new husband. Such a fine man!

Exactly. He thinks only of my happiness.

Simon, if you reject me, I'll go back to The Old Pirate.

Never heard of it.

That's my husband's bar.

And there, until you come to pick me up...

...I'll be giving myself to all the sailors in Brest harbour.

Dear Lord, what filth!

- Get out! - Simon, you're crazy!

Messalina... gorgon creature!

Go on!

Go on... out!

Simon, you're crazy!

"Vade retro, Satana!"

One false move, and I'll send you "ad patres"!

Out! Out! Out! Out!

And never come back!

I'll be waiting for you.

Not even to bury you.

Shit!

Go on!

How about your priest!

He's an artist.

Deep down, you're frozen...

...playing dead to placate your boyfriend.

And then to put him back in the saddle 7 years later!

You really are frozen!

I'm sure he'll come back to me.

And me? I love you.

What will I become?

You wouldn't be missing out on women.

Whereas, my poor Simon...

He's a bit like a man who's just done 7 years in jail.

His jail... He chose it.

Slow down and shut up. I need to think.

Stop crying. I can't stand men who cry!

Hello, Father.

Your Lordship...

Welcome, Father.

My old maid dumped me and my deacon makes a horrible grub...

...but smell that.

Wild rabbit from Flanders.

- Divine. - It's for tonight.

Thank you for having received me without delay.

You know with what esteem I hold you. How's your parish?

Falling apart.

The sailors who don't die at sea, stay in front of TV.

Thyme, currants.

But that inhabited, unique place... it's a rare location.

You were really keen to get it, weren't you?

It's a good place for meditation and sacred music.

I'd found peace there.

Tell me Father, looking at you...

...I see you're agitated, and your speech is uncertain.

I'm not seeing the spiritual son of Flechier and Bourdelle.

My lord, I am gravely tested.

Rejoice...!

God only really tests the sons he loves.

In that case I must be highly rated.

Are you sure you're not committing the sin of pride?

My wife who was dead, is no longer dead.

She's alive and remarried.

Her husband came to see me with her.

She wants to leave him and move in with me.

You know the Vatican position on the marriage of priests.

- I agree with it, sir. - And she's a bigamist!

A little calvados. One teaspoon only.

And what does your successor think of all this?

He's spineless.

Is he at least a decent sort of chap, whose discretion we can count on?

No. He's a reprobate.

Runs a seedy bar. A mainstay of the lower depths.

What century are we living in?

My son, my poor son, come.

Have you seen how Mirliflora flourished?

- My little canon. - Certainly, sir.

And what was your response to your wife's proposals?

- No, no and no! - To which she replied..?

Common decency forbids me from repeating it.

It's necessary, however. Tell me. I'm immune to the power of words.

First of all, you need to know that she has The Old Pirate.

- Is that some bad guy? - It's the name of their bar.

I see.

She says she'll have every sailor in Brest, if I don't come for her.

Unfortunate.

The sin of the flesh is not a cardinal sin.

From the Council of Trente, enlightened minds have grasped...

...that the only sin from which there's no return, is sin against the spirit.

Knowledge...

...without the transcendence of love.

I hear what you say.

But I know her. She will. She's my wife.

You're only married to God.

In second nuptials, my lord.

My first bed was with her.

Father, Father...

You've been dealt a very bad hand.

Usually these days, the priests want to take a wife...

and you have a wife and you don't want her.

You're posing a problem of dogma here.

It could set a precedent.

What should I do?

Think.

Look inside yourself. Follow your conscience.

My conscience is rather dark, my lord.

"Desinit in piscem."

"Multi sunt vocati, pauci vero electi."

"Alea jacta est."

Amen.

Pascal was right.

All my unhappiness as a man comes from the fact that I can't rest in one bedroom.

Bossuet was not wrong.

Women only inflame our sinful moods...

...and push them into extravagant behaviour.

Listen to my conscience? Easy to say!

My conscience is disturbed... in flight.

Under these conditions, isn't science without conscience the ruin of the soul?

Then...

then...

It's happening... peace is returning.

I feel myself calming down.

I've made my decision. I'll go see her.

I will talk to her nicely.

I can find the words.

She'll understand.

She needs to understand... and to leave me be.

Ah, how simple everything is, once we make up our minds!

The wife is unfaithful.

The man is unfaithful.

The child is unfaithful.

It's really only dogs that are faithful.

Mum, there's a priest taking his clothes off.

That'll teach you not to say dirty things!

Can I get you something, Father?

A dry white, my son.

You didn't come to get Rita?

No, just talk to her.

Where is she?

Where she told you she'd be.

She's a scavenger... but she has only one word.

What do you mean.

Well, she works.

Upstairs.

You allow it?

She said she wouldn't stop until you take her back.

And you do nothing?

What do you want me to do?

She's unstoppable.

I see a bunch of sad sacks walking about the docks...

I'll give them a wink and I'll double, triple my turnover.

I started in Montlucon, would you believe...

The screwy chicks there had to be threatened with a boot...

...or a broken bottle.

I gave 5 rebels a scar to remember.

And at the end of the day, what have I become?

A loser, a nobody!

As you see me here, I'm like a Breton from the '30s...

A beginner at Chabadet.

She's the one who's tied me up, shut me up.

They all laugh at me around here.

Can I tell you something, Father?

Love made me a lost man.

It's true.

You're a wet rag.

Hoist you on a mast, and you'd flap like a flag.

Hey, easy with the insults...

This is not your parish.

There's only one person who has the right to insult me: my wife!

My name's Mickey.

It's lovely.

Do I move remove him for you?

No.

He needs to talk to Rita first.

All right.

But with Rita... You'll talk to her nicely.

Understood, young man?

Listen, I didn't come here looking for a quarrel...

...but I do suggest that you lock this Pithecanthropus up...

He's a danger to children.

What was that he said I was?

Pithecanthropus... from the Greek pithekos.

Name given by some paleontologists as intermediate between man and ape.

Stop!

Did you come to get me?

No, talk to you.

I'm not interested. I don't have time.

- Shall we go back? - Yes.

Stop!

You changed your mind?

Lot's wife was as pure as the black virgin of the Cathars, to you.

Shame on you, you bitch!

Aren't you turning the other cheek?

Yes.

Listen, Mickey... You need to know 2 things.

First I did my military time in the infantry.

A grunt, yeah.

Then I became a priest. I learned the word of Christ.

If someone hits you on the left cheek, you have to turn your right cheek.

- With me? - Impeccable.

However, in The Old Testament which alas you have surely not read,

...Ezekiel recommends chastising the infidel in the flesh of his flesh.

- The flesh of the flesh, but which one? - That one.

What a man to be a priest!

I made it!

I'm going to kill you.

When I'm done with you you'll look like the chef's terrine!

The chef's terrine, I love it, finely-chopped and digestible!

Shit!

Father, I'd like to point out to you...

...that the warrior orders no longer have the right of citizenship.

The Knights of Malta have all surrendered the sword...

...and the Templars died at the stake.

M'Lord...

Forgive this late intrusion.

Late?

It's hardly late... It will soon be matins.

M'Lord, I'll be brief.

One question, just one...

Do women have a soul?

Oh my dear boy...

It's open to discussion.

Caesar Borgia, who was a somewhat poisonous pope...

...maintained no.

At the Council of Pisa in 1524, he put the debate to the vote.

The cardinals voted.

Imagine... women had a soul!

But by a very small majority... 2 votes.

300 ballots for the no, 302 ballots for yes.

A shame.

So, were they 2 votes from being beasts?

Yes.

Maybe we should re-vote.

In canon law, it would be huge.

If I spoke about it to the Apostolic Nuncio...

Imagine if the idea reaches the Holy See and that it be adopted...

What a revolution!

Imagine the headlines in the world press...

“After the hard-won rights to vote everywhere...

...“women lose their soul in Rome”.

What a papal bull, Father!

It would be the bull of the century!

All the clouds in the sky and all the perfumes of Arabia...

...will ever wash away the imprint of this woman.

St Medar, St Arsene, St Rigobert, St Therese of Avila, of Lisieux, as well...

...pray for me.

For me, Saint Philomena...

St Eloi and St Barbe.

For me St Lazare, St Martin and St Denis.

Without forgetting St Cloud or even St Radegonne.

- Oh Father! - Let's talk!

Turn around, follow him!

Since I saw Rita again...

...I feel abandoned.

Oh Lord, why have you left me in darkness?

Are you injured?

Alas no!

But... he'd been drinking.

No I haven't, my sons.

The rest of you be quiet!

There are very dark nights where we all want God to test us.

Let him smash our carcasses...

...to rebuild ourselves better.

What do you think, Sergeant?

We should see what happens.

Be quiet out there!

Father, you must get up. You've been in bed for 4 days.

I told mum that you eat nothing, you drink nothing.

Do you want my mum to come and take care of you?

No, no women!

No more women.

A priest.

Father...

You see, my boy...

I missed everything.

I live with a friend.

I live with a climbing epiphyllum...

...which climbs more and more and which refuses to flower.

Father, your epiphyllum only flowers in spring.

There are no more springs, my boy.

There's nobody left, there's nothing more.

Oh yes there is.

I talked about you with my father.

He says you must have depression.

Or some sort of fit.

That's it...

I'm having a fit.

I made tea for you.

No sugar.

You're a good boy.

You want me to add a slice of lemon?

No, I'm on a diet.

Fasting is the only way to sharpen your mind.

What am I going to tell them?

Who?

Father, you have to get yourself moving!

It's the 3rd Sunday after Christmas!

Annual Mass of Great Forgiveness.

The whole country turns up.

There are even cars from Paris.

And here comes the bishop's!

Run to the church, prepare the altar, ring the bell. Hurry!

And don't forget anything... or I'll box your ears.

The hypocrites, the weekend lackeys!

They come here like you'd go to the theatre to see the sea.

Vacationers go away!

Music will be played and my sermon enjoyed.

They're going to listen...

They’re going to get my sermon.

It'll be flamboyant, romantic, gothic and really wild!

Just the thing!

I'll really dish it out!

He's giving it a real go, our priest.

Yes, a hell of a go.

He might break his instrument.

Why is he playing so loud?

I can't hear you, my dear vicar.

Why is he playing so loud?

I think he plays too loud.

That's what I wanted to tell you.

Then why don't you say so?

Bizarre.

What did you say?

I said "bizarre".

Did you say bizarre?

I said it.

I've heard that somewhere before.

My brothers...

What is the sea?

A gigantic quantity of water...

...whose absurd volume would border on the ridiculous...

...if it weren't the symbol of the tragic age...

...where the roar of disasters bellows...

...and waves of corruption break.

The ocean is a drama.

And the storm, the 3 acts of a divine comedy...

...where we change our form...

...to enter the afterlife.

That's why, my dear brothers...

...before celebrating the annual mass of great forgiveness...

...I would like to tell you something.

Sailor, fisherman...

...foremast topman, mizzen sailor... cabin boy...

...happy, who like you others, often die at sea.

While there are others...

...others who live stupidly on earth...

...puffed up like turkeys...

...unable to stand on their own...

...or to take the measure of their own nothingness.

When will you gain intelligence?

For how long will the godless triumph?

Take care.

Truly, I tell you.

It's not enough to live in the shadows of the powerful...

...to escape the wrath of The Almighty.

Servants of God... bow your foreheads!

Kiss the dust and the grace of footsteps of him who redeemed us all...

Otherwise, the Evil One will rot your souls to carrion!

And the stench will have covered the world...

...in the thick fog of the Last Judgment.

Ourselves in the clergy...

...will not escape arbitrary mechanization and partisan politicization.

We ourselves are orphans of love, widowers of hope...

Widowers...

That's it, he's stuck.

I have known royalist priests, worker priests...

...country priests, voodoo cardinals...

Father Fuperioux, the black bishop of Harlem...

...and to all, at least the left ones, I always answered...

There is only one totalitarian regime that I really fear, that of woman!

Hooray!

So much water!

And of course, sir, you only see the top.

You did very well in the pulpit.

So... unexpected. Jumped around a lot, but fine.

I believe that this time she'll have accepted that I'll never see her again.

Father, despite your high degree of culture...

...there lies dormant inside you the naivete of youth.

You don't get rid of a woman by political insults.

They're a-political.

With great emphasis on the "A".

- So you think she could... - It's obvious.

- You see her... - Absolutely.

But... tomorrow is another day.

Tell me, before you leave, I would like to ask you...

...will you hear me in confession?

M'Lord, it would be an honour.

I'm listening to you, my son.

Well, here it is...

It's quite complex to formulate.

I am not here. There's nobody.

Please excuse me, M'Lord.

You said "it's quite complex to formulate"?

Since adolescence...

If we're constantly interrupted, I'll never get there!

A moment, sir. I'll get rid of the disturber and I'll get back to you.

- It's her. - Oh women!

And to think that there are married men who also take mistresses!

Excuse me.

Get out of here!

You don't have the right to deny me confession.

I've a lot to tell.

The immodesty!

Calling us totalitarians! Do I look like a totalitarian?

Shut up!

Never, and stop hiding behind your cassock.

I'm your wife, don't forget.

- Madam, I was here before you. - All right, I'll wait.

I don't want to confess her.

Yellow-belly!

It's alright... I'll do it. I'll take your place.

The door!

What are you doing here?

- I've had it up to here. - Me too.

- I'm fed up! - Me too.

- Where's your wife? - With the bishop.

You really have low morals.

He's confessing her, you fool!

Don't blame me, Reverend. I don't know where I am anymore.

My wife who walks the streets to recover her husband who's a priest...

...is not an ordinary situation, even for a pimp.

It must be said, all the same.

Let's not talk about it anymore.

Without getting angry...

...are you sure that Rita... won't stir up the bishop?

Because you don't know, if right now...

...she's going into detail.

She said to me this morning...

"Monogamy... only my St Simon can give it back to me."

You have to decide. Have to take her back.

I may see her in misfortune, but I answer more for myself.

I can stay very calm... but I can also get angry.

Back in '53 on the docks, I got angry!

I am not a Mickey type. But if you try me, you will find me.

There will be broken wood. There'll be the smell of death.

I'll give you a little Pearl Harbor, a Waterloo lite.

Bullshit!

You confessed her?

Oh yes!

She must have felt relieved to spill the beans.

She had a lot on her conscience.

I couldn't absolve her. I would've liked to... but really!

Quite impossible.

Yes.

Impossible.

So what...?

Then...

You have to choose, Simon.

You have to make a decision.

For you, for me, for the diocese, it can't go on.

For The Old Pirate.

My customers are laughing. My reputation's going down the drain.

So...

So it's up to you alone.

Simon, you have to choose.

Either you take me... and save me...

...or you leave me and I'm lost forever.

"Deo juvante".

Open it... I don't want to be alone with you.

Do I scare you?

Terribly.

Oh no!

My body hasn't changed, you know. Nor my hips.

Damnation!

Nor my breasts.

It's swinging.

We're going to do an experiment.

Mercy!

Rita!

M'Lord, it's crazy, it's over. I surrender. I return my robe.

I'm taking back my wanton wife.

An angel...

My angel.

Take it easy, Father. You're still a priest.

It's not like Joseph in Egypt...

...that you have to make up for lost time.

So, are you taking me back?

Oh yes!

I love you.

I'm mad about you...

...my poisonous narcotic.

I'm mad about... the organist.

Father, you have snapped.

Absolutely, M'Lord... ...and with a certain pleasure.

I tell you without lying, I will wallow in drunkenness.

Take her away.

You think so?

Come on.

I'll wait for you at The Old Pirate.

And I'm expecting you in 8 days, at the bishopric.

I'll be there, M'Lord.

You know experience is a lantern we carry hung on our back...

...but which alas only lights up the path already taken.

St Thomas.

No, Confucius.

- How's your father? - Still has the flu.

- Your mother? - Still coughing.

Alright.

Father? It's late. Can I ask you a question?

Of course, my boy.

Why do you play such beautiful music?

It's a long story...

...full of sound and fury.

Are there no lyrics?

Your music isn't sung?

No, my boy. It can't be sung.

It's dreaming.

Hi there, seminarian!

- Father? - Do you have a moped?

Alas no, father.

In that case, take this one. He's yours.

And entering the sepulchre, they saw a young man seated on the right...

...dressed in a white robe and they were seized with...

The priest!

Come along.

Wait for me.

- You're in a hurry. - Excuse me, M'Lord.

I may have influence, but there's serious red tape

Cardinal, apostolic and Roman to be drafted.

All you have to do is sign here.

- On the cat? - No, not on Mirliflore.

There.

You put "read and approved, good for agreement” and you sign.

It's a contract for no more contract with the Holy See.

You're released now from any priestly obligations.

Thank you, sir.

Would you allow me an odd question?

Anything you want.

How will I put it...

I wonder how a woman so different in background as you...

...could fascinate you...

...because let's face it, she's from the wrong side of the tracks.

- To be honest, she got to me. - I thought so.

- Really? - Really. Do you have any news from her?

Good news. She's waiting for me.

Francisco told me on the phone that she was as good as gold.

What strikes me as more surprising is that she's suddenly become devout.

"O tempora, o mores."

"Sol lucet omnibus."

"Omnia vincit amor."

Amen.

Goodbye M'Lord.

Farewell, my son.

To you, the most faithful of my flock, I need to give some explanation.

Life calls me elsewhere.

Very hard trials await me.

I ask you not to forget me in your prayers...

...in your stations of the cross...

...and in your rosaries.

Farewell, widow Locronan,

farewell widow Planqueton, farewell Widow Chenut.

Farewell, widow Terreneuvasse.

Here he is. It's him.

- It seems that you left the priesthood? - Are you going to resume your concerts?

Give me a break!

- A photo, Father! - There's no more Father.

Constable, you know what I see?

No, sergeant.

I see the priest who silences bullfrogs.

Please, ladies and gentlemen, get out.

- Good morning. - Did you call the press?

We did.

Well done, Mr Mickey.

It's one way of getting PR for your waterfront brothel.

Eh, Re-tard?

Oh, must you, Father?

There's no more father.

Where's Rita?

I tell you where she is, if you give me proof that you're a civilian.

Really?

Oh shit!

Go out, please. Leave us.

Speak, or I'll strangle you.

- Sergeant Temporal. - Lovely.

You wouldn't be by chance the priest who the other night...

- That priest is dead. - You look a lot like him.

For the last time, where's Rita?

Station.

Which station?

On the quay, under the Ardeche and the Lozere, just above the Herault.

What?

Did you hear that garbage?

- Who sent her there, you bastard? - She did.

I swear she did. She wanted to.

What for, you shit?

She was afraid to carry on, to ruin your life.

She said she made you miserable.

She returned as a novice in a convent.

With the Benedictines of the little Chartreuse.

- Calm down! - Me calm down?

I'll destroy your dive as Carthage was destroyed.

To arms!

The trumpets of Jericho, were a piece of cake to this.

Oh no, not my chandelier!

Ahoy there, convent!

The abbess, the boss, the doorkeeper?

Where is she?

Rita!

Simon.

I did it for you... only for you.

Listen to me, Rita, I'm going to Brest...

...and I'll have it off with every girl in the port till you come back to me.

Not one will escape me!

Simon, what you saw at the Old Pirate, it was not true.

I don't want to know!

It was to scare you, to make you come back.

I'll have it off with them all!

Get out, you sex maniac!

- I'm going, bitch! - Simon!

I love you. Take me away.

- You will be faithful to me. - I swear to you.

Please don't swear.

I'll be faithful to you. I'll follow you everywhere.

In this case...

Excuse me.

Subtitles by FatPlank for KG